


Late at Night

by ObsessiveCompulsive



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Physical Disability, Prosthetics, Veterans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:15:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessiveCompulsive/pseuds/ObsessiveCompulsive
Summary: Taking care of yourself is hard when there are so many parts of yourself you hate. It's so much easier to just ignore everything and focus on work. Luckily for Horace Tinker, he has two loving boyfriends who are there to support him when he can't support himself.
Relationships: Original male character/Original male/Original male character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Late at Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK!! Hahaha! You didn't think I would write another one did you? Well the jokes on you ! I've started working on this piece barely a week after I posted the first one. 
> 
> Another big thanks and lots of love to the best Big Brother in the world who took the time out of his busy schedule to edit this story (again, without compensation). I love him so much. You should all praise him lots.
> 
> "I actually really really liked it but it felt weird knowing you wrote it though lol cause it's something I would have read online."  
> \- Big Brother 2021

The languid ticks of an aged wall clock and the hurried clicks of a keyboard clashed as they echoed and bounced around an otherwise silent apartment. Illuminated solely by the blue light of his laptop, a lone figure continued to work at his kitchen table. Golden eyes, tired and strained, peered over thin wire glasses at the screen that highlighted his parlor. His back cracked and groaned as he slowly leaned back -- he let out a sharp gasp before slumping forward once more. Artistic fingers gently creeped around a porcelain teacup. The cup was cold, the tea was cold, but still Horace drank. He drank and then he went back to typing. 

The typing wasn’t loud, but Horace still couldn’t hear the sound of the latch being turned or the steps of clogs. He was alone until suddenly there was a soft hand gently running through his matted black locks. Jolting, Horace nearly twisted out of his chair as he turned to see who was behind him. He was greeted by emerald eyes that sparkled despite the darkness and the familiar scent of sanitizer and lilac perfume. It was a struggle to turn on the lamp -- it was too late at night for him to attempt to be more coordinated with his prosthetic -- and in the end it was Edwin who filled the room with warm light. 

“Hey there doll, what are ya doin’ up so late?” It was spoken with quiet cheer tinted with something like worry that made Horace… He turned away abruptly.

“Edwin, you’re home early,” he replied tersely.

“I’m home late.” A quick look at the clock revealed it was 2am. Horace gritted his teeth, his fingers hovering over his keyboard before finally laying still.

“The time must have slipped my mind…” An apology refused to leave his lips, but still Edwin hummed in assent. Resting his chin atop Horace’s head, Edwin skimmed the words dancing across the screen. He rubbed the older’s shoulders absentmindedly as he read. Horace almost lost himself in the gentle movement of the other mouthing the words through the movement of Edwin’s chin. 

“When’s this chapter due?” 

“Two weeks from today”. A sigh blew across Horace’s hair but no comment was made. A moment later the weight on his head vanished and the sound of clogs faded out. He sat there for a minute before tentatively returning to work on his manuscript. He was just starting a new page when the scent of maple overwhelmed his senses. Scrunching his nose, Horace’s fingers refused to pause in their work. Seconds, minutes passed by in relative silence before the laptop was unexpectedly shut by manicured hands -- it was all Horace could do to whisk his hands away lest they be trapped. Letting out another grunt, Horace set his glare upon his cheery boyfriend. The pinkette’s smile was big enough that his eyes were almost closed as he leaned over the table. One hand was holding him up while the other was presenting a still steaming spoonful of oatmeal. Sweet steam danced above the little mountain of food before completely evaporating. 

“Open up darling, before it gets cold.” Staring at the baby blue spoon with malice, the bubblegum pink staining Horace’s cheeks betrayed his true feelings. Turning away from the food, Horace’s chapped lips formed a thin line. 

“Edwin please, not tonight… just go to bed.” A click of the tongue was heard, followed by the clack of plastic silverware and quick steps. Horace should’ve known that wouldn’t be the end of it, however. He should’ve expected it when Edwin gently grasped his chin, but he gasped as he was forced to meet emerald eyes.

“Horace…” His eyes held such kindness that Horace felt the need to flinch,but the hand wouldn’t let him go far. “Horace, darling, you know I won’t take no for an answer.” He did know that. He knew that the only “no” Edwin would ever take was a safeword. But for some reason, “pistol” was stuck in the back of his throat. Swallowing audibly, Horace’s eyes turned downwards. 

“I, um.” Every part of him felt choked up. The weight on his shoulders suddenly became overwhelming as they sagged. His chest tightened. God, he was so tired; since when had he been this tired? Hours, days, weeks of convincing himself that he was alright and ignoring Edwin’s and Galway’s inquiries of whether or not he needed to drop finally forced a tiny whimper out of his throat. The tiny whimper was followed by a rush of silent tears and tremors. 

Unnoticed by Horace, the hand still grasping his chin tensed as Edwin’s eyes frantically darted across his lover’s face. Quickly composing himself, Edwin let out sweet shushing noises as he kneeled in front of his baby. Wrapping him up in his arms to the best of his ability, Edwin held him tightly as he silently fell apart.

“Oh baby, oh darling, it’s okay. It’s okay now, Mommy’s here my beautiful boy.” And although the only response Edwin got was a painfully tight grip on his shoulder, he still continued to whisper words of comfort. “My brave little soldier, it’s alright. You don’t have to be brave anymore now that Mommy’s home”. With each word the hollowness in Horace’s chest filled and the weight on his shoulders grew lighter. As the two of them rocked gently back and forth, Horace’s heartbeat began to slow down to a sleepy rhythm. It was only when the tears had dried that Edwin hesitantly released his hold on the older, hands still hovering on his hip and shoulder. Haphazardly grabbing a tissue from the table to wipe at Horace’s cheeks and holding the tissue close to the other’s nose, Edwin encouraged the other to blow. The sound was rough but when the job was done and his face was clean, Edwin kissed Horace’s sweaty forehead. 

Once Edwin took a step back, Horace took to staring at him as he attempted to control his sniffles. He watched as Edwin pulled the chair on the opposite side of the table over until it was nearly touching Horace’s knee and situated himself in it. Everything was fuzzy and bright. His heart was still damp after being wrung out so suddenly. A soft mist obscured complex thoughts and adultish worries, leaving Horace with nothing but feelings. 

A spoonful of lukewarm oatmeal was brought up to his mouth. Blinking owlishly, Horace struggled not to get lost in his Mommy’s eyes. It took gentle coaxing and a few well timed airplane noises for Horace to open his mouth long enough for it to be filled with the sweet oats. It was a slow and methodical process, Edwin pausing every few spoonfuls to swipe at Horace’s face with a napkin and Horace’s attention wandering to random corners of the room. But eventually the bowl was empty and Horace’s stomach was full. 

“Good job darling!” The praise paired with the gentle caress to his hair brought forth an embarrassing coo that Horace immediately tried to smother with his good hand. Tutting, Edwin gently pried Horace’s hand away from his face as he stood them both up. “Now, now, darling,” he tutted, “remember what I said”.

How was it possible for someone so short to make Horace feel so small? The five inch height difference had Mommy on his tiptoes in order to reach his cheek but still, still Horace felt so encased in love that it made his heart flip. “D-don’t hide cute noises from Mommy.” It was nothing more than a whisper but because Mommy heard everything - spoken or not - he chuckled. Sliding his hand down from Horace’s cheek, Mommy tenderly took Horace’s hand in his own, placing a quick kiss on his knuckles. 

“That’s right darling! Now come on, it’s far past someone’s bedtime.” Horace startled when suddenly the kitchen lamp flickered off. His mouth opened as if to speak, but he couldn’t find it within himself to protest as Mommy gently led him down the short corridor to their bedroom. The dark was scary, the vague idea of leaving his work behind was scary, but his Mommy’s firm hold and the golden light being emitted from the bedroom soothed his anxious heart. 

Daddy had left the light on for him, assuming that Horace would only be up an hour or two more after he went to bed. The dim light cast a comforting glow upon the gentle slopes of his Daddy’s stubbled face. Mommy allowed him to process the scene for a moment before tugging him along into the bathroom. 

Instead of speaking, Mommy sat him on the toilet seat before turning his attention to the sink. With deft movements, he quickly prepared a sparkly blue toothbrush with strawberry toothpaste. When he turned back to Horace, the little attempted to reach out for the brush only for his mommy to take a step back and tut. Only when Horace’s hand awkwardly made its way back to his lap did Mommy once more step forward. Kneeling in front of his baby, Mommy opened his mouth and made an exaggerated ‘aaah’ sound. Horace pouted, refusing to open his mouth for several seconds before finally giving in. The extremely sweet taste of artificial strawberry overwhelmed his senses as his thoughts became even harder to pin down. 

His Mommy made quick work of brushing his teeth; it seemed that Horace only had to blink before he was being directed to spit and rinse. Pills were presented to him and obediently swallowed as Mommy brushed his hair before thoroughly washing and drying his face. By the end of it all, Horace’s loose button-up was completely soaked and the feeling of water on his skin had startled him into a slightly more awake state. Awake enough to foolishly try and shoo his Mommy away from his collar buttons. He was a big boy! He didn’t need help with stupid buttons… 

His Mommy let him struggle for a minute with trying to undo the first button with his only good hand. It was when Horace's breath was beginning to come out in short, frustrated huffs that the pinkette intervened. Adeptly undoing all eight buttons in under a minute, Horace could only pout as the crimson shirt was slid off his shoulders. Now came the part he kind-of-maybe-always tried to avoid. The reason why big Horace tended to ignore the clock.

First came the arm itself. It came off of the suspension after a few good twists. Horace cringed as the heavy weight was suddenly -- literally -- lifted off his shoulder. His eyes strained as he tried to look as far right as possible as the suspension and socket were peeled off of his stump. The sensation of heat and the smell of soap came before the hot wash cloth made contact with the stump.

“Knock knock.” Despite opening his eyes at the sudden noise, the little refused to speak. Giving an unnoticed pout of his own, Mommy thought for a minute before a devilish grin appeared on his face. Inconspicuously, he raised his baby’s stump slightly as his other hand snaked up the boy’s scarred side before launching an all out tickle attack on the boy’s armpit. 

Horace let out a shriek of laughter, instinctively trying to pull his arm away from his Mommy. It was only the others’ firm grip on his stump that kept him from falling off the toilet. 

Once the laughter had died down and his baby was left with a small smile, Mommy tried again.

“Knock knock, baby.”

“Who’s there?” 

“Keith.”

“Keith who?”

“Keith me, my thweet preenth!” Mommy finished the joke with a messy, exaggerated kiss to Horace’s cheek that was enough to distract Horace from him rubbing talcum powder onto his stump. 

The jokes continued as Mommy removed Horace’s pants and leg and as he cleaned and powdered his baby’s other stump. Wild hand gestures kept Horace’s eyes away from the sources of his self-loathing until it was absolutely necessary for Mommy to use both hands to get his darling into his pull-up while keeping him upright. Thankfully, the lavender nightgown was relatively easy to get on. Now was the fun part.

With his baby about fifteen pounds lighter and a good deal of working out, it was easy enough for Mommy to sweep Horace off the toilet and into his arms like the prince he was. Like always, Horace’s pride had him struggling for a moment, but thankfully the little’s pride was easily overpowered by the calm comfort brought on by being so close to his Mommy’s heart and its gentle thump.

Daddy was sitting up in bed when the pair exited the bathroom. The honey colored blankets were pooled around his hips and exposed his bare chest. Haphazardly rubbing bleary eyes, Daddy gave a lazy smile to the both of them. 

“My, my, aren’t we up late?” he teased while lifting the sheets.

“No thanks to you, Daddy,” Mommy responded pointedly as he shuffled halfway onto the bed in order to place Horace down. Without much thought, Daddy pulled his little in close to his side as he gave his other partner an exaggerated pout. 

“Aww, don’t be mean Mommy.” The fluttering eyelashes and puppy eyes got a sleepy giggle out of Horace who had been absentmindedly poking and prodding at whatever he could reach on his Daddy’s body.

Whether it was the stupid look his partner was giving him or the adorable giggle from his baby, Mommy’s stern attitude broke with a roll of his eyes. He gave a quick peck to Daddy’s cheek before momentarily retreating to retrieve something out of Horace’s line of vision. When he saw what his Mommy had, Horace couldn’t help but wiggle within his Daddy’s warm embrace. He wiggled until his hand was free enough to grab Wilson the Whale. Once his best friend was securely nestled against his chest -- much like how he was secured against Daddy’s -- he shoved his face into Wilson’s plush blue fur and deeply inhaled. Wilson smelled like Daddy’s aftershave, Mommy’s perfume, and cheerios. Wilson smelt like home and Horace could feel himself sink into the mattress as he exhaled and closed his eyes. A part of him wanted to open them, wanted to watch Mommy as he shuffled throughout the bedroom and bathroom, to watch Daddy fall back asleep just so he could make sure he would stay, but his eyelids refused to listen. Once Daddy resituated himself underneath the covers and brought Horace over so that his back was flush with Daddy’s fuzzy chest, there was no hope of staying awake. In a matter of minutes he had been lulled asleep by Daddy gently rocking them back and forth. 

=============================================================================================================================================================

Edwin came out of the bathroom about thirty minutes after Horace had fallen asleep. His hair was still damp and his sleep shirt was on backwards but he didn’t care as he face planted into bed. Galway was still rocking Horace, so he simply observed as his smallest boyfriend let out a tired groan.

“The lights aren’t gonna turn off by themselves, you know…” The only answer he got in response was a bunch of muffled nonsense and more groans. Eventually though, Edwin managed to find the willpower to get up long enough to flip off the lights before properly crawling into bed. The pinkette wiggled and adjusted himself until his chest was just barely squishing Wilson the Whale and he could throw his arm completely over his baby, allowing his hand to brush against his partner’s arm. He drew lazy patterns on Galway’s forearm as they stared at each other. 

“Hey there gorgeous,” Galway broke the silence with a whisper.

“Hey yourself handsome,” Edwin said with a tired chuckle that brought a soft smile to Galway’s face.

“Long day?”

“Mhmmmm.”

“I’m sorry about Horace, I should’ve been stricter when I told him to come to bed.”

Sighing, Edwin brought the blanket closer to his nose before replying, “It’s okay. I know how convincing he can be.” 

“Is… is he okay?”

“Just the usual stress I think. Nothing radical.” 

“Yeah, okay. But I still think I’m going to take the day off tomorrow. I want to be with him.”

“But isn’t this week midterms?” The confusion was evident in his voice.

“They don’t really need a teacher when the only thing they’re doing the entire time is taking a test.”

“But still--” Edwin’s argument was interrupted by a giant yawn that made Galway snort. 

“Come on, enough talking now, it’s time for bed.” Edwin let out another sigh before gently squeezing Galway’s forearm.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” Carefully, the pinkette propped himself up and above Horace in order to place a gentle kiss on Galway’s lips. “Goodnight Galway, I love you.” He whispered gently in the other’s ear before lowering himself back down so that he could place a feather soft kiss to Horace’s hair, whispering a soft “I love you” that Horace couldn’t hear. It made Galway’s chest swell with warmth. God, he loved those two so much and he said as much which got him another forearm squeeze that remained tight until sleep loosened Edwin’s hold. But still Galway stayed awake, simply watching the even breathing of the loves of his life. He watched and watched and watched until he couldn’t watch anymore and fell back into a deep, deep sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking to time to read all about my boys! Stay tune for the sequal which will involve Horace getting to spend some quality time with his Daddy ^O^.
> 
> On another note, I'm sorry if there were any inaccuracies about the prosthetics. The only experience I have with them is helping my mother with her leg prosthetic and the research I've done on arm prosthtics.


End file.
